You Strike Me Still
by Inkstained Scarlet
Summary: My version of the "balcony scene" in Babylon. AlexanderHephaestion slash, obviously...


The city sleeps and I drown in his eyes. We have come so far, so far from all we knew. Oh to once again see the reassuring sun shining down on Macedonian soil. To hear Aristotle talk, to see Alexander alive again…

I drown in his eyes, they have become so deep. He stands here on this balcony on this beautiful Babylonian night and looks at me directly for what feels like days. I can barely stand under the weight of those eyes. But I do. And I always will. Alexander is to me what Achilles was to Patroclus. I am Patroclus, only I know my fate. I will die before Alexander, yes, and I will be his death. We have drifted apart physically these days, our rendezvous' cut short by prying eyes. We are watched from all corners of the city, and I feel them turn their gaze to me. They will try to kill me. I know it, but I am not afraid to die. What I fear beyond all things is that I will die without Alexander there by my side. Without Alexander, I am not complete. And that is what I fear. Incompletion. What can I tell him but the truth?

"You strike me still, Alexander."

He smiles at me and I lower my eyes slightly. That smile is rare and I am proud to have earned it. I know he saves it for me alone, and that is how I want it. Bagoas can sleep with him all he likes, but _that _smile is mine. I swear he could make the moon change course if he was just to smile at it. I would understand. It is sometimes so easy to confuse Alexander with the sun. But again – he must know the truth, so I plough on ahead.

"The men are unsettled. They say we come here to make slaves of the people. They say these Alexandrians are becoming extensions of Alexander himself." I narrow my eyes slightly and purse my lips. He will take this one of two ways. He will either grow angry with me and we'll end up fighting and then fucking or (as I hope) he will give me a passionate speech about freeing the people and then hold me in the moonlight and make love to me gently. Well, here goes…

"But we free the people, Hephaestion! We set them free! I see it every day on a thousand faces…"

He carries on, but it matters not. I've heard it all before and am more than happy to hear it all again. His voice is more soothing to me than any ointment Ptolemy thinks he can make. I let it wash over me and refresh me. I am so lost in the reverie of his words that I almost don't see the hand coming, but when it gently cradles my cheek, I feel the bittersweet pain of knowing why I love him. A conqueror of nations, a King, Alexander The Great he might be, but now, on this night, he is simply Alexander. And it is Alexander that I love. I lean into his touch and close my eyes, kissing his palm. He steps forward and takes me into his arms, resting my head against his chest. We fit together like two parts of a whole. Yes, I, too, am Alexander.

How long we stood there in companionable silence, I will never know. Being around him, I loose my sense of time. I remember only that he turned me to face him, looked into my eyes and I looked back. Not defiantly or arrogantly. Just with comfortable understanding. He told me I was the world to him, and without me he would shatter. As if I didn't know he loved me, he said it over and over again, etching it on my soul. I smiled at him and breathed deeply in satisfaction. He leaned towards me then, touching our lips together, but waiting for me to instigate the kiss, which I was more than willing to do, kissing him gently, then more firmly as my hand snaked around his neck, stroking his beautiful golden hair. I pull back and he looks at me again, taking a moment to open his eyes.

"Stay with me tonight Hephaestion?"

It's a question, not a demand, and of course, I nod to him. He takes me by the hand and leads me into Darius' old chamber. It is not Darius' now. It smells, tastes and even looks like Alexander's. He has that effect on places. And people. He kisses me and removes my robe with one sharp tug. I stand before him naked, and allow him to look over my body before running my hands – oh Gods, are they my hands? – Up his shins, his thighs, his chest and finally over his head until he is in the same state of undress as I. A second as we appreciate each other and then, as if driven to by some innate force we step towards each other at exactly the same time. What are hands, what are lips, what are bodies? It becomes hard to tell, but it barely matters when I need him this badly. I can tell he needs me too. We leave it too long between our meetings and love will not be slated by lust. Somehow we made it to the bed, and I feel his kisses down my spine and my body trembles with anticipation. I need him I need him…

"Oh Gods Alexander, TAKE ME NOW!"

And so he does, planting a small kiss on the side of my neck and plunging inside me.

In the morning, sun's first light wakes me but he sleeps on. I look down on his beautiful face fondly and whisper gently,

"You strike me still, Alexander."


End file.
